Chosen by the Wolf (BBW Steamy Werewolf Shifter FMMMMM Menage Romance Novella) Read online

  “That won’t be necessary, Dmitri. I’ll see that he is properly taken care of,” Peter spoke.

  “Your generosity is always appreciated.” He turned back to Hansel, still holding the martini on its tray. “You. Immediately see to the needs of my friends. Which table is this for?”

  ~

  The meal was restrained in portions but extravagant in taste, and we started with a plate of egg rolls that was more expensive than most of the steaks I had ever eaten. I dreaded to think of how expensive the entire meal was, even after he encouraged me to pick a dessert at the end. After having my fill of salad, lemon-glazed salmon, and side sampler dishes with borderline pretentious names I could barely remember, I finally settled on a slice of a rich, delicious-sounding chocolate confection.

  Peter, on the other hand, barely touched the egg rolls and turned away the salads and soups offered. He delighted in a thick slab of immaculate meat, a delicious-smelling New York Strip that was conspicuously still bloody. Washing it down with an expensive vintage of red wine – which Dmitri had decided to graciously present himself.

  While I expected dining with Peter to be strange, quiet, and honestly a little awkward, I couldn’t help but feel the opposite. He was almost endearing in a way, and I found myself pouring out my heart to him halfway through our meal together. He took it in stride, never seeming to simply feign interest or grow even the slightest bit bored. He was receptive, understanding, and took strides to treat me as if I were an equal.

  And he was right. By the time he dropped me off at home, I could already tell I didn’t want to go back. I even considered telling him so on the way, but decided to try and separate myself for a few days to collect my thoughts. The man was close to double my age, but he made me feel more comfortable than any boy ever had. And it was only on the drive back that I realized that I hadn’t thought about my family for most of the meal.

  It surprised me. What kind of effect had this man had on me that he could settle my grieving heart so quickly? My entire world had come crashing down, and with one simple dinner he had wiped away my fears.

  I had laughed during our time together. Until then, I had thought it would have taken me weeks to muster a smile, let alone a laugh.

  And when he walked me to the front door, the sedan idling in the driveway, he took my face into his strong hands and planted his lips to my forehead. I realized that I had wanted him to kiss me, and that knowledge inspired turmoil inside me.

  “Thank you for tonight,” he spoke with a slight husk to his voice, watching my eyes carefully. “As I said...you are free to join me at my manor. Take a few days, and text this number with your answer,” he told me, withdrawing a scrap of paper from his pocket with his number on it. “I will await your response, and hope to see you soon.”

  When I took that slip of paper and stared into his penetrating but somehow endearing gaze, I had no idea what he had in mind for me. It had been so close that he and his rich elegance had faded away into the footnotes of my life. He might have never come to see me, simply picking up the phone if he felt so compelled. But he didn’t – he came, with no guarantee that I was even here, showing up out of the blue to whisk me away from all of this misery.

  I didn’t realize it then, but I soon fell captivated under his spell...and subject to that man’s crushing, seductive might.

  ~

  That night, much later, I first saw the wolf.

  I don’t know what compelled me to take the walk. But I found myself restless, thinking about my parents, about Peter, and everything else that had changed so drastically in my world. I hadn’t even thought to change, as I walked the neighborhood and the long, quiet sidewalk leading towards the covered, enclosed bus stop further up the hill.

  I felt like someone was watching me, and I sped up. No matter where I went or what I did, the feeling remained, and my eyes kept darting around. I must have looked insane to anybody else out – a young woman, freshman age, in a dress and gazing about like a crazy, paranoid thing…at practically midnight.

  In hindsight, that’s probably what attracted the mugger. A middle-aged, slender guy in a hoodie, he was smoking a cigarette by the bus stop as I passed. I didn’t think to realize that the buses didn’t run at this hour, nor did I hear him put out his light and quietly follow me for fifteen seconds.

  “Hi, Miss?” I heard a friendly voice from behind, and whipped around on the spot.

  “Sir, I need you to leave me al–” I started, my eyes suddenly catching on the blade that he held out in his hand.

  “Lady,” he gruffly told me, all kindness sapped from his voice suddenly, “you’re gonna come back here with me.”

  “Oh god,” I murmured, hesitantly gazing at the blade. “Please don’t do this. I just lost my parents.”

  “I lost my parents too. About five years, ago, but still. Thanks for opening old wounds. Now you’re really pissed me off.”

  He threateningly held the knife higher.

  “Like I said…you’re coming right back here with me,” he motioned to the bus stop with the other hand.

  My eyes instantly scoured the streets. Of course nobody was out at this hour. Who would be? Why was I even out here?

  Timidly, I considered bolting, but I knew he was faster and stronger. There wasn’t any other choice, so I stepped in the direction of the bus stop. Maybe he wouldn’t hurt me…but I knew that was a useless thought, even at the time.

  “That’s right. That’s a good girl,” he told me. “You got any money? Your phone? I’m gonna need everything.”

  “I don’t have anything,” I told him. “Just my house key, that’s it.”

  “Oh yeah? That’s a shame. Surely there’s another way you can pay me, since you’ve been so cheap. After all, you broke my heart with that parents thing. Now I’m gonna be all depressed tonight.” He leered at me, and I could see him tracing my body in the dress. “Unless you make me forget all about my dead parents. Hey, two birds with one stone! And this little birdie’s lookin’ real good.”

  We were back at the enclosed bus stop, and he looked around quickly. “Get inside,” he told me, “and you’ve got ten seconds to hike up that pretty dress of yours–”

  I heard the growl before I saw the flash of fur. The would-be rapist screamed as his knife clattered to the ground, his forearm caught in the jaws of a furious, large wolf. I heard an audible crunch as it tightened its bite, and he kicked it furiously again and again until it finally let go.

  “What the FUCK?” The stranger screeched, trying for the knife on the ground. Maybe he thought the same thing I did a minute ago – that he’d never be fast enough or strong enough to overpower his enemy.

  Or maybe he was just faster thinking than I was.

  But it was a poor decision either way. The wolf immediately lunged, clamping onto his other arm, the one reaching for the weapon. Bucking his head, his fangs made short work of the criminal’s remaining arm, drawing blood and cracking bone.

  Screaming, he pulled himself free as soon as the wolf let go, throwing himself into a frantic sprint down the street. I could see his torn arms hanging by his sides, bouncing painfully and drowning his panic in horrendous cries of pain.

  I gazed at the creature that had driven him off, and it turned to me, having inadvertently cornered me in the bus stop. I resisted every impulse to freak out, frozen on the spot as it quietly looked at me, its piercing eyes staring deep into my very own – into my soul.

  My hand was frozen near it, and it quietly licked my fingers before prancing out, into the night.

  “What the fuck indeed,” I murmured to myself as I watched the wolf disappear into the shadows.

  ~

  The strange encounter – my savior, the wolf – was another strange distraction that complicated my thoughts. I managed four miserable, confused days before I finally texted the number he had handed me. The ice cream stayed untouched in the freezer, and I could barely stand flicking on Netflix. All I could think about was the bizarre e
ncounter, coupled with how Peter made me feel while we were together.

  Peter wasn’t supposed to be in my life – my family was going to visit him without me, and even if he was going to come this way in the next few years, I had already been planning to move out at the end of the semester. But fate had decided to intervene, and we had been put on a collision course together.

  These were the thoughts that filled my mind as I finally sent him my fateful text message, just a few simple days later.

  > It’s Monica. I say yes. Ready when you are.

  It was only a few minutes before his response came through.

  > Greetings. Expect Mr. Blackwood’s drive at 9 AM sharp.

  Of course, the number he had given me wasn’t actually his. Did he even own a smartphone? Now that I thought about it, I had never seen him with one, and it made me wonder exactly who this man was.

  I wasn’t quite sure where his home was, and it occurred to me that it could be states away. He had seemed so pressed to have me visit that I was sure his driver would leave within a few hours, and it was still mid-afternoon. With that in mind, I figured that a flight would have been quicker and convenient, but that he hadn’t even brought up the possibility in light of the recent tragedy.

  So, I spent the rest of the day shoving the thoughts of guardian wolves out of my head while taking my time to pack my things. I had no idea how long I was to be there, but I thought that about a week’s worth of clothing would be sufficient for the trip. In the meantime, I had spruced the house up about as much as possible.

  In the previous days, I had spent most of the cash left in the safety deposit box to finalize ownership of the house outright. The family lawyer owned a copy of the will and had already gone over the details with me, and they amounted to about what I expected – clearing out the deposit box, paying off the house, transferring my parents’ vehicles into my name. He was handling the details and had me sign some of the documentation, already filled out for me. I reviewed everything with him and allowed him to make the arrangements for me, after he gave me a short, sympathetic hug at the end.

  “I’m so sorry, Monica. I wish we didn’t have to meet under these circumstances. If there’s anything I can do...”

  “You’ve been great, Steve. Thanks for taking care of this for me.”

  It was good to take the time to handle my personal affairs. After I was done packing, I hopped onto Facebook and answered the barrage of messages left on my account, then picked a cute outfit to wear when I greeted him at the manor.

  My brain was swimming with emotions. Anticipation, of being near him again. Confusion, at the feelings he had inspired within me. Depression, at the loss of my family. Hopelessness, at the journey ahead. And gratitude, that my father had taken such painstaking steps to ensure my continued lifestyle if they passed away.

  The last night in my home, after all the arrangements were made and I had taken an hour-long hot bath, I sat in his chair in my robe, barely keeping the tears away. I stroked the arms of his chair, for the first time in days a sad, lost little girl again. I dimmed the lights and curled up with a blanket, wishing with all my heart that this was all a bad dream, that I would wake up the following morning in my bed and have them all back again.

  And after the longest sob I’ve ever had in my life, I finally drifted to sleep.

  ~

  I woke up late, but still had just enough time to compose myself and dress for the occasion. The driver patiently waited in the living room for ten minutes as I finished up in the bathroom, finally descending the stairs and locking the door behind us.

  He wasn’t much of a talker, and was content with driving back the entire way in silence. However, he had been kind enough to offer his quick sympathies, and to inform me of the trip’s duration and of the fresh champagne in the backseat.

  The drive was approximately five hours. We stopped for breakfast about an hour in. To my slight embarrassment, I had forgotten to eat anything on my way out. Through either foresight or compassion for my preoccupied mind, he remarked that he was feeling peckish as well, and we chose a much less expensive roadside breakfast buffet.

  I kept myself content with a Kindle I had packed for the road, and tried to pass the time with a book I had been reading before the accident. My mind was looped onto wondering about the rest of the weekend, and I couldn’t help but find myself having to reread pages or flip back half a chapter to regain my footing in the text.

  Eventually, I gave up, sipping the champagne and watching the trees on the interstate flash past. We were heading vaguely northward, and I watched how the landscape gradually changed as the hours passed.

  We made another stop for lunch at a hole-in-the-wall Greek and Lebanese restaurant owned by a small family. I hadn’t had much Greek, and he took the time to suggest a gyros dish I would have never considered but found quite delicious. Meanwhile, he enjoyed a vegetarian tzatziki wrap, slightly more talkative than before.

  The rest of the drive was uneventful. I am one of those people who grow drowsy from too much time on the road, and found myself nodding off against the window not an hour later, drifting towards a deep, restful slumber.

  ~

  I awoke with a start. The light had changed, and we were no longer moving. Peeling myself away from the window, I gazed around in a daze until the door popped open and a black leather-gloved hand reached in to clasp my shoulder.

  “We’re here,” the driver told me. “I’ll gather your things. Follow me to the door.”

  He popped the trunk and withdrew my suitcase as I stepped out of the sedan and stretched, concealing a yawn as gracefully as possible. When I turned to face the manor, I practically collapsed in shock on the spot.

  I know what the term “manor” implies, but I wasn’t prepared for the sheer magnitude of what I was going to face. The immaculate home was four stories tall and wider than half my street. The steps leading to the door alone were wider than my house, and as I turned my attention back the way we came, gazing across the sloped, luscious lawn to the trees. My dumbfounded stare followed paved road as it drifted downward and out of sight.

  Back to the house, I couldn’t count the tall, paned windows that overlooked the open entrance to the property. I wondered how far I would see from the top windows...over the trees? Would I see the main road from here? It was hard to tell. But my eye was drawn to the stunning stonework that divided the rows of windows into columns, and gave a stiff level of exquisite presentation to the manor as a whole.

  “Come along, miss,” the driver finally spoke in my ear, and he followed him up the stairs and to the double-doors of the manor. A servant greeted us at the door and took the suitcase, and I followed the pair into the foyer and the main entrance room.

  “Mr. Blackwood, Monica has arrived,” the driver announced as we came across my host himself, standing with his back to us and quietly speaking to a distinguished younger gentleman.

  “Ah, Monica!” He motioned to me. “It’s a pleasure to finally have you here.”

  “Will there be anything else, sir?” the driver asked, betraying the slightest hint of weariness.

  “No, Harold, that will do wonderfully,” Peter answered, a slight, sly smile across his lips. “I appreciate your time and patience for making such a long trip twice in such a short time frame. Please, feel free to take the rest of today and tomorrow off.”

  “You’re too kind, sir,” the driver bowed briefly, taking his leave to the left.

  “Well, I imagine I’ve answered all of your questions,” Peter turned to his companion again, his friendly demeanor sliding away for cool apathy. “I’m afraid that I must settle my guest in. You understand, of course.”

  “Of course, Peter,” the man answered, tipping his hat to me as he passed us on the way out. “I’ll be back in touch on Monday.”

  “Splendid.” His tone didn’t convey the purpose behind the word. I almost asked about the encounter, but chose to remain silent.

  “Well!” He lit u
p, turning to me. “As I was saying, I’m pleased you came to join me. I imagine you are quite exhausted from the drive.”

  “Somewhat, yes,” I answered, realizing that I was still rather drained. “Perhaps I can sleep some of this off.”

  “Well, you certainly have the time. Follow me,” he replied, extending his elbow. I graciously took it as the servant plucked up my suitcase and followed us to the equally luxurious set of stairs before us, up to the second floor.

  We turned right and walked a small ways before ascending another large set of stairs, with another on the opposite side of the previous staircase. On the third floor, we rounded a corner and passed in front of the windows on the way to my room. To my delight, I saw that I could indeed gaze over the treetops, even if only barely from this floor. Down the slope, the paved road curved, until finally reaching the main road and a town that sprawled out around it as far as I could see.